[No. 48] Hiroyasu Izeki

Throughout elementary, middle, and high school, my worst subjects were calligraphy and arithmetic/mathematics. For calligraphy, I could make the excuse that I was left-handed, but for math... well... I was, by my own and others' admission, a humanities person. Today, I teach mathematics at a university and am supposed to be doing research as a fledgling mathematician. To the outside world, I probably look like a typical science person. Of course, having gone on to the Faculty of Science and Technology, I did have an interest in the sciences since high school, even if my grades didn't reflect it. However, in a way, that interest might have been from the perspective of a humanities person.

Take, for example, waves traveling across the surface of water. There are poems that express the state of waves through words, and famous musical pieces that do so through music. On the other hand, the natural phenomenon of waves is also a subject of research in the natural sciences. In other words, there exists a natural scientific expression of waves. This scientific expression, once a starting point (an assumption or hypothesis) is decided, is completed according to logic (for example, through a mathematical formulation based on it). This kind of expression of a phenomenon may seem less charming at first glance compared to expressions in poetry or music, but upon closer inspection, it possesses a transparent beauty. It leads us to an understanding of the phenomenon and sometimes even makes possible what poetry and music cannot, such as controlling the phenomenon itself.

As a high school student who had heard bits and pieces of such stories, despite being a humanities person, I became interested in mathematics, which serves as the foundation for scientific expression and is the source of a certain universality in the natural sciences. The mathematics that appeared there seemed quite different from the math I struggled with in every exam. From Keio Senior High School, which I attended, I was able to advance to Keio University through the internal advancement system. Thanks to this, I could pretend not to notice my own math grades and secretly request to enter Cluster II of the Faculty of Science and Technology, and my admission was duly granted.

Although I entered the Faculty of Science and Technology with a seemingly plausible motive, as expected, it was pushed to the back of my mind by the excitement immediately after enrollment and was forgotten for a while. A motive is a motive, and reality is reality. In fact, until my third year of university, the center of my life was the activities of the Faculty of Science and Technology Athletic Association Ski Team. It seems to be inactive now, but at the time, skiing was at the peak of its popularity, and our Faculty of Science and Technology Athletic Association Ski Team, which focused on competitive skiing (Alpine racing against the clock), had many members. In my third year, I even ended up serving as the captain of the Ski Team. During the season, my life consisted of one training camp after another at ski resorts, and a great many things happened. There were fights, there were accidents... Looking back now, I can say they were fulfilling days with fun companions. On the other hand, during the off-season, although I was on the Yagami Campus, I just went back and forth between the clubroom and the library, and my studies were completely neglected. Just between us, I skipped lectures quite often. When exams approached, I naturally had no lecture notes, so I would look at what we now call a syllabus to check the course content, search the library for books that might be helpful, and repeatedly face exams with my own makeshift methods. Of course, I often failed to earn credits, and in the end, I graduated with the exact minimum number of credits required.

If I may make an excuse in a small voice, this experience was not a complete waste. In the world of research, you don't always know from the start how to tackle the problem in front of you. It's normal to proceed with your thoughts by trial and error. I believe I was able to adapt to that smoothly thanks to my makeshift study methods. That said, please don't misunderstand me; I am not recommending this way of studying. To understand the content of a lecture, the shortest path is still to attend the class and listen to the organized explanations (or so I must say, given my position...).

It is often said that friends from your university days are friends for life. I agree, but I feel that sharing special experiences in the special place that is the Faculty of Science and Technology at Keio University has made the friends, seniors, juniors, and classmates from the Ski Team during this period even more special to me. There were numerous events involving the entire Juku, starting with the Waseda-Keio rivalry and the Mita Festival, and for us on the Ski Team, a major event was the All-Keio Tournament where ski teams from within Keio competed. All of these were wonderful events that could not have continued without the help of Keio University's faculty and alumni, and the love for the Juku that is its source. At the time, I didn't realize how fortunate I was, and I even rebelled against the Keio University brand itself. However, looking back, being able to participate in such events with my friends has become an irreplaceable memory. To date, I have served as a faculty member at Tokyo Metropolitan University (now Tokyo Metropolitan University), Nagoya University, and Tohoku University, but I believe that there is no other university in Japan besides Keio University where one can have such experiences.

Well, it was around the end of my third year that I remembered my plausible motive for choosing the Faculty of Science and Technology. I became interested in geometry, the branch of mathematics that deals with shapes in a broad sense, and I chose the Obatake-Maeda Lab. This is still true today, but back then, the geometry research group in the Department of Mathematics had an impressive lineup of leading figures on its staff. The lineup of the Obatake-Maeda Lab at the time was a stellar one: Professor Morio Obatake, Associate Professor Yoshiaki Maeda, Research Associate Osamu Kobayashi, and Research Associate Masahiko Kanai. When I was assigned to the lab, I had no idea how outstanding these professors were as geometers and, audaciously (while ignoring my own habits), I was simply impressed that "they were professors who drank a lot." Thanks to their guidance in seminars (and at drinking parties), my awareness of learning and research grew, and I came to aspire to research in the field of differential geometry. And, fortunately, I was able to find a job that allowed me to continue my research as a mathematician, which brings me to the present. I am truly indebted to Professor Obatake, who gave me appropriate advice not only on research matters but also at various decision-making junctures after I entered graduate school and even after I got a job at a university. I am also still very much indebted to Professor Maeda, Professor Kobayashi, Professor Kanai, and Professor Koji Fujiwara, who came to the Department of Mathematics after I entered graduate school, for their help with my research (and, um, with drinking... I seem to be always drinking...).

As I write this manuscript and look back on my student days, I am keenly reminded that who I am today, however modest, is thanks to the professors and friends I met at the Yagami Campus of the Faculty of Science and Technology back then. It is a pity that I could only touch upon a very small number of their names and episodes. Also, Professor Obatake, to whom I am most indebted, passed away at the end of last year at the age of 80, before I could ever properly thank him. I pray for the repose of his soul. Finally, I would like to thank everyone who has helped me, as well as Professor Tatsuo Sawada and Professor Hitoshi Moriyoshi for giving me this opportunity.